


Hey, I'm your psychiatrist.

by WritingAddict



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Everyone is hiding secrets, F/F, Modern AU, Violence, dirty stuff happens, murders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-03-19 03:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3594426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingAddict/pseuds/WritingAddict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When journalist Finn Collins is found dead in his office in strange circumstances, young psychiatrist Clarke Griffin is sent to investigate.<br/>But she never could have guessed the dirty secrets the employees are hiding, alongside with their attractive, enigmatic CEO. Clarke has exactly fourteen days to discover the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day one : The suicide which probably wasn't one.

The body was hanging from the ceiling, a tie knotted around its neck, the other end of it tied to the chandelier lighting the office. Bellamy thought the young man must have been handsome, although it was quite hard to see it, now that his face had turned to a dark purple shade.

Bellamy brought his talkie-walkie to his lips and started reporting to his superior.

“I'm there, Kane.”

“ _How does it look?”_

“I'd say suicide. The man most likely hanged himself.”

“ _I don't buy that. Finn Collins, recently acclaimed reporter? He just reached fame. His life was about to get really damn interesting. Why would he kill himself the very moment his career starts smiling at him?”_

“To be honest, my sister thinks that's suspicious as well.”

Bellamy's sister was a young advertisement campaign manager, named Octavia. She was working at the _ArkCity Daily_ , and he was off to pay her a visit at her workplace, before going to the police station. He had found her in a feverish state of panick, cheeks flustered, and she whispered him she just found one of her coworkers dead.

Bellamy Blake, as any well-trained cop, immediately put the building on lockdown. No one was to enter the _ArkCity Daily_ offices, or get out, until the police handled the matter.

“ _Time of death?”_

“Still fresh, sir. He can't have been dead for more than half an hour.”

“ _Was your sister the first one to find him?”_

“Yes. She's in shock.”

Bellamy glanced at his sister, who was sitting on a chair outside of the office, nervously running her hands through her hair.

“ _Raise a list of everyone who is currently inside this building. They are all suspects, Blake. And that includes your sister. I'm sorry.”_

 

\---

 

Clarke yawned. She loathed Mondays. She wasn't much of a morning person, and sadly enough, her line of work was depriving her from sleeping until noon. It was her first year as a psychiatrist. She just got her degree six months ago, which was, at the end of ten hard years of studying, an endless source of pride.

Clarke worked at the ArkCity clinic, where her mother Abigail Griffin was a renowned surgeon. As for her, she was providing psychological support to the patients. To Clarke, the complexity of the human personality was an everlasting source of fascination. Despite the impossible schedule, she loved her job.

She spotted her mother walking towards her, displaying her usual professional attitude.

“Doctor Griffin, a word, please?”

“Oh, sure, doctor Griffin.” replied Clarke with a smirk, amused by Abby's formal tone.

She followed her mother into her office, and sat down, staring at the white walls of the clinic. She let out a quiet sigh. The lack of esthetic decoration was quite depressing around here.

“What is it, mom?” she asked, tearing her gaze away from her surroundings.

“Something came up, Clarke. You have been assigned to work somewhere else for the next two weeks, starting today.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow.

“It's nine o'clock on a Monday and I'm supposed to leave the clinic? Whoever made that decision has a terrible sense of timing. This kind of information is normally provided a few days in advance.”

Abby rubbed her temples, looking exhausted.

“Make no mistake here, Clarke. What is offered to you here is a unique opportunity for your career. It's a rather short mission, only fourteen days, but if you succeed it, you will be the city's most respected psychiatrist.”

All of a sudden, Clarke was feeling much more awake. She leaned over the desk, curious.

“Tell me everything. How come I am given such an opportunity?”

“My good friend Marcus Kane just called me from the police station. Apparently, they're collapsing under a huge amount of work, so they need help on a case. Marcus asked me for the name of a good psychiatrist, so I figured I would give my daughter's career a little boost.”

Clarke let out a grateful smile.

“Thanks, mom. So, what's it about?”

“There had been a suicide. A man hanged himself in his office. But the thing is, Marcus believes it might be a murder.”

“Ew, in which company is that?” frowned Clarke.

“None other than the city's most famous newspaper.”

Clarke gaped. Now, that was massive gossip material for every other media in town.

“Are you telling me that some guy at the _ArkCity Daily_ killed himself? What am I expected to do about it ?”

“Snoop around. Investigate. Dig a little. It seems the people here are working under an incredible amount of stress. The CEO has quite a reputation... They say she is a ruthless leader, and a terrifying woman. Add to that jealous coworkers, and this becomes a case of murder investigation. A psychiatrist could very well get the truth out of the people there.”

“I see...” Clarke nodded, thoughtful. “So, I would be like a medical detective, that's quite cool, mom.”

“Marcus is waiting for you at the police station to brief you. You're being sent to an office at the _ArkCity Daily_ for the two following weeks, starting this afternoon. Good luck, Clarke.”

 

\---

 

Marcus Kane looked dead serious, and as he did, he bore an incredible resemblance to a hawk, his eyes narrowing above his crooked nose. Clarke fought back a laugh, which would be absolutely inappropriate.

“Hello there, Clarke. It's been a long time.”

“Well, I don't live with my mother anymore, so, yeah, we don't see each other very often.” she shrugged, offering him a polite smile.

“I didn't know you graduated in psychiatry. I thought you wanted to be a neurosurgeon.”

Clarke pursed her lips. She would have thought her mother talked to her friend about her daughter a bit more.

“Not for a couple of years. I changed my mind.” she explained, quite impatient. She was literally dying to hear about her mission.

Marcus sensed it. He cleared his throat and began to speak.

“So, a journalist named Finn Collins was found dead at eight in the morning, earlier today. One of my men was fortunately visiting his sister at the _ArkCity Daily_ building when he found out...”

“Bellamy.” interrupted Clarke, as understanding lightened her features.

Marcus looked taken aback.

“Beg pardon?” he stammered out in surprise. “Do you know him?”

“Actually, we are quite close. We are flatmates. We've been friends for a couple of years, and we moved in together last summer, the both of us being a bit short on money.”

Marcus processed the information. He finally nodded and went on.

“Anyway, his sister found the body, and she told him immediately. Bellamy raised a list of the people present at this moment. Fortunately, it was very early, so only a few employees had arrived. Which leaves us a list of ten suspects.”

He handed her a piece of paper, where nine names were written.

“We checked the cameras outside the building. They all entered the office between 6 am and 7.30, approximate time of Finn Collins's death. Nobody got out of the building after that. So, if it's a murder – and I am positive it is – it's the deed of one of these ten people.”

Clarke looked at the piece of paper, reading the ten names quickly.

_Lexa Heda, CEO_

_Anya Queen_

_Indra Blades_

_Raven Reyes_

_Kyle Wick_

_Octavia Blake_

_Lincoln Red_

_John Murphy_

_Jasper Jordan_

_Monty Green_

“So, let me know if I get this right. One of those ten people is a murderer. And you want me to find out who it is.”

Marcus nodded.

“You will infiltrate the building as a psychiatrist, providing psychological help for them after the loss of their coworker. But since there is no clue suggesting this is a murder, the law only allows this kind of investigation for two weeks.”

“I understand.”

“Your mother trusts you, and I trust her judgment. So, I hope you manage to find out what the truth is. Be at the _ArkCity Daily_ at one o'clock this afternoon. Your job starts the very minute you enter the building.”

 

\---

 

Clarke nervously checked her watch. It was noon already, and she hadn't eaten yet. She glanced across the street, impatient, when she spotted Bellamy running towards her.

“What the hell were you doing, Bell? I'm supposed to start in an hour!” she hissed.

“Sorry, princess, work was hectic this morning.” he explained, a bit out of breath.

Clarke shook her head and took him by the arm, dragging him beside her.

“So, lunch, shall we? You're already awfully late, and I'm really hungry.”

“I'm paying for you. Consider it my apology.” he offered, a grin lighting his handsome face.

“Whatever.” she grunted as they entered a nearby fastfood.

They ordered hamburgers and, true to his word, Bellamy payed for the both of them. As they sat down at the table to eat, Clarke noticed the preoccupied look on her friend's face.

“Is something bothering you?”

“I don't like the idea of my sister working with a murderer. It's fucking worrying me.” he admitted, chewing on his hamburger.

Clarke rested her hand on his shoulder, rubbing him gently.

“Hey, relax. For all we know, it could just be a suicide.”

He stared at her intensely.

“I trust you to find that out, Clarke. Octavia's safety is at stake.”

“I'm on it, Bell. I will do my best. From now on, you can call me Sherlock.” she joked, to lighten the atmosphere.

Bellamy laughed and bumped her in the shoulder, still looking anxious.

“I'll probably be home late.” warned Clarke.

“I know. Octavia never leaves the office before 8 pm, so I guess you're in for the same schedule.”

“It's no big deal, really. I'm used to that, thanks to med school.”

They finished eating in quite a rush. He hugged her before she took the subway to the city business center – her workplace for the next fourteen days.

 

\---

 

Clarke looked up at the impressive skyscraper towering above her. The design of it was definitely modern, all in tainted glass panels. Although the _ArkCity Daily_ didn't employ a hundred workers, the place itself was extremely classy, everything about it screaming wealth.

She entered the building, a bit nervous. A tall woman with an angular face was waiting for her in a great hall, which spacious and neat.

“Doctor Griffin?” the woman asked, her eyes piercing Clarke with a tad of suspicion.

“Herself.” confirmed Clarke, holding out her hand.

The woman, lean and in her thirties, shook it. Her grip was firm.

“I'm Anya Queen. I'm the CEO's personal assistant. She is waiting for you.”

Clarke blinked. The name of Anya Queen was on the suspect list. Suddenly, she felt uncomfortable next to this woman, who looked austere and somewhat aggressive.  Anya gestured for Clarke to follow her.

“If you will.” she said, tilting her head slightly on the side.

Clarke nodded and followed her, regaining composure.  They stepped into the elevator and Anya pressed the last floor button. As she felt the device rising in the air, Clarke glanced at the woman next to her. She was quiet, and looked all but pleased with Clarke's presence.

It was a relief when the doors opened. Clarke followed Anya through a long corridor. The only noise to be heard were their heels.

Clarke noticed the minimalist decoration. The walls were painted a light shade of blue.  A few historic covers of the newspaper were framed, punctuating the corridor.

Anya stopped in front of a white door, incrusted with golden letters that read  _Lexa Heda, CEO_ . She let out a cold, tight smile and spoke to Clarke.

“This is where I leave you. I have business to attend to. Have a good day, doctor Griffin.”

Without any further indication, she whipped around and disappeared into the elevator. Clarke ran her hand through her hair, nervous. She was about to meet one of the most successful CEOs of the city.  A strong, discreet woman with a fearsome reputation, who also happened to be a suspect of murder.

Clarke knocked on the door.

“Come in.” she heard.

She opened it, letting herself in, and closing it behind her.

She did not expect that.

Across the large office, sitting at a long desk made of glass, was an extremely attractive young woman. She could not be much older than Clarke. She was most certainly under thirty.

Lexa stood up and joined Clarke in a few steps, offering her hand. Clarke shook it, noticing the soft skin and the long fingers.

“Good afternoon, doctor Griffin. I'm Lexa.”

Maybe it was the surprising familiarity of that first name, or just Lexa's bewitching green eyes with her perfect eyelashes, but Clarke let out words she didn't intent to pronounce.

“Please, call me Clarke. Doctor Griffin is my mother.”

Her voice was husky and low, and she didn't mean it to be. Damn, why was that CEO so sexy? Lexa gave her hand a small squeeze. Clarke, who hadn't realized she was still holding onto Lexa's, let it go a bit too fast, like she was burnt.

“Alright, Clarke. Please have a seat. I believe we have an important matter to discuss.”

Lexa returned to her leather armchair. As she did, Clarke couldn't help but stare at her ass, tightly imprisoned into skinny black jeans. Casual, but elegant nonetheless. With that, Lexa was wearing black boots and a gray buttoned shirt. Clarke tore her gaze away and sat down across the desk.

Lexa was simply stunning, with tanned skin and brown curls that flowed around her face. However, she was as austere as she was beautiful. Clarke immediately recognized the features of a harsh woman, one who wasn't used to smile, or scream, or to display any emotions whatsoever. Lexa had complete control of her composure, it was so obvious that it would intimidate anyone. She was all power and calm. To Clarke, it was purely impressive.

“Everyone in this company feels sorely the loss of mister Collins. He was an extremely nice young man, appreciated by all his coworkers. His death brings upon us a heavy burden of grief, that shall not be forgotten soon.”

Her words were clinical, calculated, and no hint of concern or grief could be found in her plain, soft tone. Clarke nodded.

“I'm sure of that. I am there to provide psychological support to the closest of her coworkers.”

“It is what I have been told.” Lexa answered, resting her elbows on the desk.

Clarke rubbed her hands on her thighs. Her palms had grown slightly sweaty. Why, she couldn't tell.

Or maybe she could. But she refused to admit she was aroused by a woman when they were talking of dealing with grief.

“I will mostly focus on the people that were present in the building at the time of Finn Collins' death. It must have been a traumatizing experience.”

Lexa pressed her lips together and stared at Clarke, her eyes cold.

“Let us be honest with each other, Clarke, if you will.”

“Well... Yes...” answered Clarke with uncertainty, raising an inquiring eyebrow.

“I am smart enough to figure out why the police sends us a psychiatrist after one of my reporters was found dead in his very office.”

“I didn't mean to question your intelligence.” answered Clarke slowly.

“You believe it is not a suicide. You believe one of us killed mister Collins.” stated Lexa.

She didn't sound upset or worried, just merely annoyed.

“What I believe, I have not decided yet.” replied Clarke. “I haven't talk to anybody yet. But the police nourishes some doubts indeed.”

“I cannot oppose myself to the police's decisions, Clarke. But, as far as I am concerned, you are not quite welcome here. A psychiatrist is not needed. A psychiatrist is even less needed when trying to charge one of my employees with murder.”

Lexa crossed her arms. Her tone had remained even, and polite, but her words were frankly hostile. A shiver ran through Clarke.

“I understand.”

“I am glad you do.”

Clarke couldn't help herself. She took a deep breath.

“But I think you are being very rude here. I am only doing my job. I don't think I deserve that scornful attitude of yours.”

Lexa was slightly taken aback, and intense satisfaction filled Clarke.

“Now that the matter is settled, would you mind showing me my new office?” she went on.

“Of course. Please follow me, Clarke.”

Clarke fought back a smirk and remained in her seat as Lexa stood up. She eyed her up and down, in an obvious way, deliberately, her only purpose being making Lexa uncomfortable. But the young woman, her composure as irreproachable as ever, only rolled her eyes slightly.

She walked out of the office, followed by Clarke.

Lexa gestured for Clarke to enter the elevator. Clarke got in. Before her brain could register what was happening, Lexa was leaning over her, extremely close, her hot breath ghosting against Clarke's skin. Clarke caught the exquisite scent of her perfume. It was intoxicating.

Her mouth was very dry when she realized she was standing in front of the floor buttons pannel, and Lexa had just leaned in to press one.

Clarke blushed a bit. Her body had reacted like one of a horny teenager. Lexa had perfectly noticed it, of course.

Clarke cursed herself as the shadow of a smirk came across Lexa's lips.

They got out of the elevator and entered another office, an empty one.

“This is where you will spend the next two weeks.” indicated Lexa.

The room had been arranged just perfectly. A desk stood on one side, a couch on the other. Clarke mentally noted that it was where she would make her patients/suspects sit.

“I would ask you to wait until tomorrow before beginning your investigation.” said Lexa. “My employees have taken the day off anyway, except my personal assistant. I told them to go home. Work made in grief is non productive work.”

Clarke nodded. It made sense, although she was a bit irritated. Lexa seemed to deliberately delay her investigation. She would have to wait until tomorrow, when one of her fourteen days would already be up in smoke.

“And how do you suggest I spend my afternoon?” she asked bitterly.

“I let the personal files of my employees at your disposal. You might as well study it.”

Lexa gestured at a thick pile of folds laying on the desk. Clarke thanked her. It would indeed be useful.

“Well, I have some work to do.” announced the very busy CEO.

Clarke narrowed her eyes.

“I thought work made in grief was useless. Don't you grieve?”

Lexa looked at her. She knew very well that Clarke was teasing her, testing the limits of her patience.

“Mockery is not the product of a strong mind, Clarke. I do grieve, but I have responsibilities that cannot wait. To lead well, one must put aside his or her emotions.”

She bowed her head and left the room. Long after she was gone, Clarke could still feel the weight of her piercing look, and smell her heady perfume.

Clarke shook her head and sat down at her new desk. She went through the files.

 

Raven Reyes. Kyle Wick. Lincoln Red. Indra Blades. Jasper Jordan. John Murphy. Monty Green. Those were unknown names.

Octavia Blake. The one person she was sure was innocent. Well, it was Bellamy's sister, after all, right?

Anya Queen. The austere, passive aggressive woman. Clarke distrust her.

And finally, there was Lexa. Smoking hot, and deadly cold all at once. Clarke wasn't sure how to feel about her. (Damn, she needed her hormones to shut the fuck up on that one.)

One of them murdered Finn Collins. And she was determined to find out who that was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be quite a fun ride. I hope you don't mind a few dead bodies on the way.


	2. Day two : She's creating obstacles for me.

Clarke was woken up by the harsh sound of her alarm. Groaning, she reached out her arm to turn it off. She lifted one heavy eyelid and spotted the red bright numbers on her alarm.

_6:45_

She sighed and rolled off the bed. She stretched her legs and arms, yawning. This would be a long day.

Walking into the kitchen, still rubbing her eyes, she noticed Bellamy, already showered and dressed into his uniform, making coffee.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” he said, handing her a cup.

“Thanks.” she mumbled. “I'll never understand how you manage to get up so damn early.”

“The day belongs to those who wake up before the dawn, Clarke.”

“What is that, a wisdom motto? I am definitely not ready to listen to your old dusty proverbs, it's not even eight o'clock.”

He chuckled, amused by her grumpiness.

“See, that's exactly what I'm saying.”

“What can I say, I'm not a morning person. Besides, mock me all you want, you were already sleeping when I came home last night.” she observed, taking a sip of the hot liquid.

“So, any breakthrough with the Finn Collins case?”

Clarke rubbed the back of her head.

“I had a look at the files of the suspects, but I haven't talked to them yet.”

Bellamy nodded, indecipherable.

“I see. Anything suspicious in the files?”

“Nothing remotely interesting... A journalist named Jasper Jordan has had several warnings for being always late, apparently. Ah, yeah, another one, John Murphy, has been reported as strongly hostile by his coworkers. I'll look into it, but I don't think it's relevant.”

“Nothing about Collins' interactions within the company? Friends, enemies, any notable relationship? That was not in the files ?”

Clarke sighed and grabbed a cookie.

“The files were barely a list of everything the employees had done while working here. But it's all purely professional. If there was anything compromising on a personal level, the CEO removed it before I could see.” she said, frustrated, stuffing bits of cookie into her mouth.

“Did you meet her? Octavia says she's a real bitch.”

Clarke let out a  small  laugh, chewing on her food.

“Yeah, she kinda is. She's doing basically everything she can to annoy me. She told me I wasn't welcome in her company, and apparently she wants to make my time there a living hell.”

“Ew, that's rough. I'm a bit curious, what does my sister's uptight boss look like?”

Clarke considered the question for a moment. What did Lexa look like? She was fucking gorgeous, and very, very sexy. Even though she was a real pain in the ass.

“Young woman, about my age. Nothing special.” she lied.

“Griffin, I can see you blushing. Spit it out.”

“Piss off, Blake.” she retorted. “I'm going to take a shower.” she added, hastily finishing to eat.

“Oh my god, you're totally crushing on her!” Bellamy gaped, amused. Teasing Clarke was his favorite hobby.

“I'm so not. She's a bitch. And a potential suspect.”

As Clarke  rushed off to disappear into the bathroom, she  tried to ignore Bellamy's voice, failing miserably .

“Try not to drool all over the place when you interrogate her!”

“Dammit, Bellamy, I regret everyday moving in with you!”

“Noooo, you love me, face it!”

She slammed the door, yelling a bunch of extremely impolite things.

 

\---

 

Clarke arrived at the _ArkCity Daily_ building at 7:40. She noticed a journalist from another newspaper, lurking outside the doors, a cameraman alongside him. He almost jumped on her, shoving a microphone in her face.

“Hello ma'am, do you work here?”

Clarke frowned, uncertain how to answer. And what the hell did that guy want?

“Uh, well... For the time being, I suppose I do...”

“Good.” he cut her short. “It must have been very hard a situation to cope with, wasn't it?”

“I beg your pardon?” she asked, abashed.

“Finn Collins' body was found in his own office. Do you believe in the suicide theory, although he just won the prize of Best Reporter of the Year?”

“I...” she began, confounded.

“That's enough. For the last time, the _ArkCity Daily_ does not wish to make further comments on that matter. Please respect our privacy in these difficult times.” snapped someone.

Clarke whipped around and spotted Anya, who looked ready to murder the nosy journalist. H im and his cameraman  ran away at once, visibly scared to death. The older woman narrowed her eyes and greeted Clarke with a quick nod.

“I should inform you that the _ArkCity Daily_ has a zero tolerance policy on...this. You are not to speak to any reporter about mister Collins' suicide.” she said dryly.

“I wasn't about to tell anything.” answered Clarke. “Don't worry.”

She entered the building alongside Anya, who looked as hostile as ever.  She thought it better not to push the conversation further and headed towards the elevator. She pressed the 5 th floor button, where her office was located.

Clarke unlocked the door and took off her coat. She put it on the couch, before sitting at her desk. She tapped her fingers lightly on her thighs, not knowing what to do.

The ten files were still on her desk, but she had already gone through them over and over. These weren't helping her investigation.

Clarke sighed. She put her elbows on the desk and rested her head on her hands. She was already very tired.  She decided to close her eyes for a bit. 

When she opened them again, she jumped from her seat.

“Shit!” she whispered to herself.

She had fallen asleep. Checking her watch, she noticed that it was already half past nine. She cursed hers el f. One hour and a half up in smoke, and she hadn't gotten any work done.

She decided to have a look around the building. Clarke got out of her office and began wandering through the floors. 

All the building was organized around the same pattern. Long corridors, with four offices and a bathroom on each floor. Golden letters were engraved in each door, announcing the name and profession of the people in the offices.

There was a cafeteria on the first floor, with a coffee machine and a kitchen on the side. It was empty. Clarke guessed  it was inappropriate for the employees to go to the cafeteria in this period of mourning.

There was another cafeteria on one of the upper floors, but that one was smaller and classier. Probably for the highest ranked employees.

Lost in her thoughts, she almost ran into Anya.

“Ah, doctor Griffin, I was looking for you.” said the other woman.

“Really? I was, uh, visiting the place before starting my consultations.” explained Clarke, gesturing around her.

Anya nodded, although she looked like she couldn't care less.

“About those interrogations of yours...”

“Consultations.” corrected Clarke. “I'm a psychiatrist, I don't interrogate. I help people.”

“I'm sure you do. Anyway, about those interviews, the CEO Lexa Heda asked me to give you a message.”

Clarke noticed Anya's refusal to use the word 'consultation'.  Just like Lexa, Anya didn't like Clarke at all. It was painfully obvious.

“What is it?” she sighed.

“The CEO wants you to know that after a day off of work, the employees are very busy today. There is a lot to catch up on. Also, the unfortunate death of mister Collins brings an extra layer of work upon all of us.”

Clarke had a bad feeling about this.

“And?” she asked, already knowing the answer to her question.

“Miss Lexa Heda wishes that you don't bother anyone today. You need to understand that the amount of work doesn't allow anybody to take a break.”

“Are you saying I can't take anyone on consultation today?”

“That's correct.”

Clarke breathed in deeply. There went Lexa again, delaying her investigation with all her willpower. How long would she keep doing that ? It was extremely irritating.

Lexa was making Clarke feel useless, putting her on standby, forcing her to inactivity.  For the second day in a row.

“Can I talk to her?” snapped Clarke.

“I'm afraid you can't. The CEO is very busy. As is everyone else.”

“I got that.” grunted Clarke under her breath. She wanted to slap Anya very hard in the face, to wipe off that haughty attitude.

And she also wanted to slam her fist onto Lexa's gorgeous, annoying face.

“And what am I allowed to do?” she inquired mockingly, trying not to show how much she was angry.

“Miss Lexa Heda suggests that you study the files she let at your disposal.”

“I already did that yesterday.”

“Surely you've left out some details.”

Anya addressed her a cold smile and left her. Clarke clenched her fists. This was a total joke.

She stormed back into her office and threw herself on the couch. She started texting Bellamy.

_Clarke : I'm so fucking angry right now_

_Bellamy : What's up princess?_

_Clarke : Bitch won't let me talk to anybody today. Says they're all extra busy_

_Bellamy : That's the second day in a row_

_Clarke : I know!!! She's playing me for a fool_

_Bellamy : You need to get on with the investigation though._

_Clarke : Not helping Bellamy_

_Bellamy : I'm picking you up for lunch, to clear out your head_

_Clarke : Thanks. But if this goes on, I will be the one to commit murder._

_Bellamy : It's amazing the effectS that woman has on you. (plural intended) (yeah I'm talking about your attraction to her)_

Clarke tossed her phone aside angrily before picking it up again.

_Clarke : FU. I just want to hit her. Very very badly_

_Bellamy : I can feel the sexual tension from here_

Clarke rolled her eyes and, face down on the couch, muffled her scream into the fabric.

 

\---

 

Lunch with Bellamy relaxed Clarke a little, allowing her to blow off some steam. They mostly talked about random things, laughing on various subjects. As she kissed him on the cheek, ready to get back to work, he cleared his throat.

“I asked Octavia to drop by your office in the afternoon. You can talk to her and ask her all you want about the case. She's willing to help you.”

She hugged him happily.

“That's so cool Bellamy! I'll have something to chew on until tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I'm incredible.”

“I hope she doesn't get into trouble, though.” frowned Clarke. “Disobeying orders and all...”

“Don't worry, she'll be discreet about it.”

 

\---

 

When Octavia entered Clarke's office, the blonde girl immediately stepped up to hug her.

“Hey, Octavia, it's been a long time! How are you?”

Octavia smiled feebly. She didn't looked as bright and happy as she usually did, and she had shadows under her eyes. Sleep deprivation and the loss of a coworker could do that to you.

“I'm okay, I guess.”

Clarke went to sit with her on the couch.

“Tell me what's on your mind.” she said soothingly, pulling on her psychiatrist face.

“I... It's been quite a shock yesterday morning, when I found Finn... Hanging there.” Octavia's voice trailed away, strangled.

“You entered his office at 8 am?”

“Yes, to say hello, as usual.” explained Octavia, eyes on the floor.

Clarke waited for her to regain her composure. She talked for a few moments, calmly, giving Octavia the usual speech about loss and how to handle it, how it is merely a step in everyone's life, and so on. 

Octavia cried quietly for a bit. Clarke kept on talking, expertly, finding the right words to get Octavia to loosen the pressure, soothing her. Finally, she calmed down and sat more straight.

“I hate to ask you that, but...”

“Yes ?”

“Have you noticed anything strange around here, lately?”

Octavia looked into Clarke's eyes, more serious than she ever had been.

“Clarke, I think everyone in this building is hiding things. I mean, it's unhealthy...”

Octavia was suddenly interrupted. Anya, not bothering knocking, had entered the office and did not look pleased by what she was seeing.

“Miss Blake, the CEO would like you to come with me. We need to attend a meeting with the press in my office. There will be a vote about whether or not to extend the advertisement space on page four.”

Octavia glanced apologetically at Clarke and stepped out of the office. Anya looked on the verge of saying something to Clarke,  probably scolding her for bothering Octavia. However, she just shot her an accusing glare and followed Octavia out.

Clarke stood there stupidly. Lexa. Again and again, working really hard to make her idle and useless.

“Alright, that's enough.” Clarke decided, teeth gritted, anger swelling inside of her.

She stormed out of her office. Busy or not, she was determined to s peak her mind to Lexa.

 

\---

 

She burst into Lexa's office like a hurricane, and walked over to her desk. Lexa didn't  even bother  lifting her head up, focused on a letter she was writing.

“What the hell are you playing at?” snapped Clarke furiously.

Lexa slowly put her pen down and raised her head, finally acknowledging Clarke's presence.

“Good afternoon, Clarke.”

“Yesterday, you told me that I would begin my consultations today. You were delaying me. And you're doing it again. I can't take this.”

Lexa stood up, still very calm. It was beyond irritating how she could remain indifferent, even though Clarke was burning with rage.

Clarke noticed that she was wearing a tight black dress, extremely elegant yet short. Her legs were naked from half her thigh down, and her arms were bare as well. She had a tribal tattoo on her  right arm, which was very surprising.  ( And also very hot. )

Clarke swallowed thickly and focused back on her fury.  Lexa moved towards her, walking like a runway model in her high heels, and faced her, leaning back on her desk.  (Was she being so seductive on purpose or was it a natural attitude? Clarke really could not decide.)

“I understand you're upset. But surely you can understand how logical was my decision.”

“How long are you going to keep doing this?” asked Clarke, barely containing her anger.

She wanted nothing more than to punch Lexa. (Well, perhaps she could think of something else, but, uh, anyway.) Maybe that would manage to put an emotion on her face.

“I promise you that tomorrow you will be able to do whatever you wish.” said Lexa.

Clarke stepped forward,  completely oblivious of the notion of personal space.

“You better hold onto that promise.”

“Or what?” replied Lexa, lowering her voice.

“Or I will start to believe you have something to hide.”

“You can believe what you want. But I mean to be true to my word. Tomorrow.”

They were breathing the same air. Clarke was mobilizing all her willpower not to dart her eyes at Lexa's lips. Or her  low-cut  cleavage.

“Alright, miss Heda. I'll start my consultations tomorrow, andI will investigate everything that is happening here.”

Clarke dropped her voice an octave, her tone huskier than she meant.

“Thoroughly.”

Lexa raised her hand and p ressed a finger on Clarke's lips, shutting her up. 

Clarke's heart  raced up. Lexa's skin felt exquisite on her lips, and her perfume, once again, was intoxicating.

Lexa leaned over and whispered directly into Clarke's ear.

“It's _Lexa_.”

Then, suddenly, she was gone, walking past Clarke and disappearing in the corridor. 

All Clarke could hear was the sound of the blood beating at her temples.

What the hell just happened?  And why did Lexa let Clarke alone in her own office?

Clarke shook her head, trying to forget the intense scene that just ended.  Feeling bold, she walked over to Lexa's armchair and decided to search through her desk.

Her computer's access was blocked by a password, but there were several files on the desk, and drawers under it.

Honestly, she didn't even know what she was looking for. She was halfway through a pile of documents on the laws about freedom of the press when she heard someone clear her throat.

Lexa. Embarrassed beyond words, Clarke quickly jumped away from the desk.

“I was, uh... I was just... Something caught my eye...”

Lexa raised an eyebrow.

“I can see that.”

She was leaning in the doorway, a cup of coffee in each hand. She handed one to Clarke.

“I was just off to get you some coffee.” she explained.

Clarke blushed. She was feeling stupid, and taken aback by Lexa's kind gesture.  She noticed Lexa looked like she was feeling a bit awkward.

“Thank you.” Clarke muttered.

It was the first time Lexa was showing a hint of humanity. It was unsettling, to say the least. They sat down on each side of the desk, allowing a reasonable distance between them. Which was probably for the best, given the intensity of their last interaction. Was Lexa flirting with Clarke? That was a question that deserved some attention.

“Why?” asked Clarke.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Why bringing me coffee.”

Lexa ran a hand through her braids. Clarke was mesmerized by her tattoo. This woman was the perfect combination of wilderness and control. A true force of nature.

“I upset you, Clarke. So I thought I could make up for it.”

“By offering me coffee? It's nice, but it's not helping me.” snapped Clarke, still angry.

“By letting you ask me any question you want.”

Clarke did not expect that. She gaped for a moment, but quickly jumped onto the opportunity.

“Were you close to Finn Collins?”

“He was working for me. Our interactions were always purely professional.”

Clarke had absolutely no doubt about that. Lexa's natural coldness was overwhelming.

“Did he made any enemies within the company?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Any friends?”

“Not that I know of.”

Clarke paused, slightly annoyed.

“Are you telling me that Finn Collins remained all day in office not talking to anyone? Didn't he socialize with anybody during the five years he was working here?”

“Not that I know of.” repeated Lexa on the same emotionless tone.

“And why is that, Lexa?”

“I am the CEO here. My job is to lead. I do not make friends, I do not talk to my employees about their private life. It would be inappropriate. So, I am not the right person to ask these questions.”

Clarke sighed heavily. She finished her coffee in a long gulp. In this very moment, the bitter taste matched perfectly how she felt.

“Thanks for the coffee, Lexa. But you're still not helping.”

She got up and headed out, nodding politely to dismiss herself. Lexa nodded back.

“Be patient, Clarke. Tomorrow, you will be free to push your investigation further.”

As Clarke left, she couldn't help but feel irritated at the self-satisfaction Lexa clearly didn't hide.

 

\---

 

“I'm home!” she called.

Bellamy was watching TV, yawning.

“Hey, princess.”

She threw herself on the couch next to him and put her legs onto his lap.

“So, Octavia came to see me but it was mostly useless. We got interrupted.”

“Let me guess. Was it that Lexa bitch?”

Clarke punched him in the shoulder.

“Hey, don't call her that. You don't even know her.”

“Wow, don't be so territorial.” he joked. “I thought you hated her.”

“I mean... She's a real pain in the ass, but I kinda admire her.” confessed Clarke.

Bellamy smirked.

“Is it her work or her body that you admire?”

“Shut up.” she hissed. (Yeah, both.)

“She must be really hot to make you blush like that, Griffin.”

“I'm not blushing. It's the light that gives this impression.”

“Sure. So you're not interested in her?”

“God no, Bellamy.” sighed Clarke, rolling her eyes. (Which wasn't totally a lie. It's not like she was actually considering to _act_ on Lexa.)

He narrowed his eyes, putting on a serious face.

“But, in an absolutely disinterested way, do you think she's hot?”

“I am really uncomfortable right now, Blake.”

“Because I happen to be single. And if you don't make a move, I will.”

Clarke widened her eyes. She knew he was joking, but still.

“I can't believe you!”

“Would you mind getting her number for me?”

“Good night, Bell. I'm tired of you.”

“So selfish. Wanna keep her all to yourself, uh?”

Clarke cursed him and slammed her bedroom door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments and kudos and everything, you make my day !  
> So, the investigation fully begins on the next chapter. It's going to be fun.


	3. Everyone fears Cerberus.

Clarke entered the kitchen humming the melody of some trendy song, a smile barely hidden lighting her face.

“Hello there, why so happy?” asked Bellamy as he was making coffee.

Clarke grabbed a waffle and brushed it with a considerable amount of Nutella.

“Today I'm starting the real work. Wow, you made waffles, I really love you.”

She took a large bite and let out an exaggerated moan.

“I'm going to pretend you never made that noise.” said Bellamy very seriously. “So, you're excited about a bunch of boring interviews of people crying?”

Clarke chuckled, chewing on her waffle.

“I don't think they'll all be crying. Lexa didn't, when I talked to her yesterday. But Anya crying would be a delightful sight to my eyes.”

Bellamy raised an eyebrow, a grin creeping up his face.

“Lexa, uh? You two already are on first name basis?”

Clarke rolled her eyes impatiently.

“Piss off, Blake. Breakfast is my safe place and the most important moment of my day. Don't ruin it.”

“Fine. By the way, you need to report to Marcus Kane from time to time, to let him know your progress. He hasn't heard from you since you started on the case, so he asked me to remind you that.”

“Dammit. I forgot. Okay, I'll call him today.”

Bellamy patted her on the head, knowing how much she hated that.

“Good girl.”

“Get your paws off me.” she grunted. “I can't eat my waffle in peace with you around.”

He grabbed his coat and walked through the door.

“I'm going to work anyway. Early shift today. See you tonight, Clarke.”

“Bye!” she called indistinctly, her mouth full.

 

\---

 

Clarke unlocked the door of her office with the key Lexa left at her disposal. She sat down at her desk and chewed absently on her pen, trying to decide who she wanted to talk to first.

Octavia. Their conversation the previous day had been cut short, and she had seemed to be on the verge of telling something interesting.

Clarke's eyes fell onto the phone on her desk. It was an ancient device, with twelve buttons : the numbers from zero to nine, a button to start the call and another to end it.

She took the receiver and nudged it between her ear and her shoulder, reading quickly the note that was glued to the phone.

“ _To call the CEO : press 1. CEO's personal assistant : 2. Press director : 3.”_

The list was very long, but Clarke knew who she wanted to call. Grinning broadly, she dialed the number two, playing absently with a strand of her hair.

“Hello, miss Queen?” she said politely when the woman on the other end of the line picked up at the first ring.

“ _What can I do for you, doctor Griffin?_ ” answered Anya dryly, sounding as pissed off as ever.

“I believe that today, I am finally authorized to talk to the employees of this firm. Is this information still accurate?”

“ _It is._ ” replied Anya, who wasn't hiding her annoyance. “ _So, as I asked, what can I do for you?_ ”

Clarke, extremely satisfied, put her feet on the desk.

“Would you be so kind as to ask miss Octavia Blake to come to see me right away, please? I wasn't finished talking to her yesterday.”

She could picture Anya clenching her jaw very accurately. That company phone line was very fun, she decided, she should use it more often.

“ _Very well. I'm sending her to you. Have a good day, doctor Griffin.”_

Anya hung up at once. Her words were polite, but her scornful tone were saying something else entirely.

Clarke was quite pleased with herself. This was her way to get back at Anya for being such a pain in the neck. And, to be honest, she enjoyed being in charge. Her status of psychiatrist forced Anya to respect her, and that flattered Clarke's ego.

Sure enough, Octavia knocked at her door a couple minutes later, and let herself in. She looked more human that the previous day, although she was clearly still in shock.

“Hello, Clarke.”

“Hi, Octavia.”

Clarke gave her a brief hug and led her to sit on the couch. She grabbed a notepad and started scribbling.

_Consultation : Octavia Blake_

“I'm sorry about yesterday.” started Clarke. “I wanted to talk to people, but I never meant for you to get into trouble.”

“Don't worry about it.” replied Octavia with a faint smile. “I didn't get into trouble, I just had to attend to a particularly boring meeting. I've barely been scolded for talking to you.”

Clarke crossed her legs, sitting in her chair professionally rather than casually. She cleared her throat.

“So, do you mind if we pick up our conversation where we left it yesterday?”

A hint of reluctance flashed through Octavia's eyes, that Clarke did not miss.

“Of course.”

Clarke quickly wrote down her impressions.  _Subject is not comfortable anymore. Did she get orders not to talk openly?_

“Alright, Octavia. Do you care to elaborate on what you were saying yesterday before we were interrupted?”

Octavia bit her lip.

“I don't remember.”

_Subject is lying._

“Let me enlighten you then. You were talking about secrets, I think. You said everyone in this company was hiding things.”

Octavia nervously twisted her hands, eyes focused on her feet.

“Did I?”

“You sure did. What did you mean?”

“I think it was mostly the shock of Finn's death, you know. It got me really paranoid, but the shock is starting to wear off.”

This time, Octavia was staring straight at Clarke. Lying at her face. Clarke scribbled on her notepad once more.

_Subject knows something. Won't open up._

“Really?” asked Clarke, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I feel better now.”

_Subject feels terrible. Looks ready to break down._

“And why would you be paranoid about people here hiding secrets?” inquired Clarke, trying to get her to talk.

“I guess I felt really nervous about a potential murderer being among us.”

“You said you “felt”. So, you're not nervous anymore?”

Octavia ran a hand through her hair.

“I am accepting the fact that Finn probably killed himself.”

_Subject believes – knows? – that it's a murder._

Clarke leaned forward and lowered her voice.

“You know you can tell me anything, Octavia, right?”

“Yes. Excuse me, Clarke, I don't feel so good. I... I need to get back to work anyway.”

Octavia got up and left quite in a hurry, wishing Clarke good luck with her day.

Clarke frowned. Yesterday, Octavia had looked ready to help her, and now it was the very opposite. She knew something, and she didn't want Clarke to find out what it was.

Unsurprisingly, Clarke had a sense Lexa had something to do with that brusque change of mood.

 

\---

 

Clarke sneaked up in Lexa's office with outstanding discretion. Well, she was absolutely certain that she had been totally silent, but she heard Lexa sigh, not lifting her head from whatever she was writing.

“Hello, Clarke.” she said very calmly.

Clarke's mouth fell open.

“How did you know I was here?” she asked, a bit frustrated.

Lexa finally raised her eyes to look at the intruder.

“You're the only one in this building who would ever try to sneak up on me. Everyone else is either too scared or too respectful, or both. And to be honest, you're breathing too loud.”

“Dammit.” mumbled Clarke.

Lexa rubbed her neck and leaned forward, displaying a really nice cleavage. Clarke averted her eyes as best she could.

“What brings you here?”

“I'm considering getting you under arrest for obstruction to justice, Lexa.” said Clarke casually, sitting on the corner of the desk.

“Please don't sit on my desk.” replied Lexa at once.

A quick look around taught Clarke that Lexa was probably very fussy and slightly OCD. Everything was in perfect order and perfectly neat.

“Seriously, Lexa, that's all you have to say?”

Clarke stood up and crossed her arms.

“I just said I'm considering getting you...”

“I heard you the first time, Clarke.”

Lexa slowly stood up as well, to be at an eye level with Clarke. She lifted her head up, accentuating the fact that she was about an inch taller than Clarke. Obviously, she liked to be the one in control and wanted to be looked upon. Superiority complex, decided Clarke.

“Aren't you going to say anything?” asked Clarke, annoyed by her lack of reaction.

“I am merely waiting for you to explain yourself. There is no reason why you would do such a thing.”

Clarke was in awe of that woman's composure. It showed outstanding strength and willpower. It was also kinda hot. Not that she cared, anyway.

“Really, no reason? How about you delaying a potential criminal investigation for two days?”

Lexa crossed her arms too, mirroring Clarke's pose. It could have fooled anyone, but Clarke was a psychiatrist. This meant that Lexa was feeling threatened on her own territory and was trying to scare off Clarke by using the same body language, adding intensity to it.

“I thought I gave you the authorization to conduct your little experimentation within my company. Or was I not clear enough? You're allowed to ask all the questions that come through your mind, Clarke.” Her tone was dry, her eyes calculating. “Isn't that what you wanted?”

“It is”, admits Clarke, “but it's only efficient if people are actually _willing_ to talk to me.”

Lexa scoffs.

“You can hardly blame me if you do not make people comfortable.”

Clarke, furious, walked around the desk, stepping closer to Lexa until she was invading her personal space. To her credit, Lexa didn't back away, clenching her jaw slightly.

“You know what I think, Lexa?” said Clarke, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I think those people received orders not to talk.”

Lexa raised an eyebrow.

“That is ridiculous.” she replied on the same tone.

“Is it? I believe there are things going on in this company that someone doesn't want me to find out. I think suddenly closed-up employees are very suspicious.”

Lexa glared at her.

“Even if what you are implying is true, you have no way to prove that I have given such orders. So I suggest you stop accusing me. I might get annoyed by you, Clarke. That would be a pity.”

Clarke leaned in imperceptibly, impossibly close to the other woman.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yes. I do enjoy our interactions.”

Lexa's gaze was heavy and her voice mesmerizing, and Clarke felt like all the air was sucked out of the room. Feeling overwhelmed, she took a few steps back, stumbling slightly.

A smirk tugged the corners of Lexa's mouth, and Clarke cursed herself. By backing away, she had just lost a silent battle for authority and power, and Lexa knew that she was now in control.

“Well, good for you.” snapped Clarke. “But it's not mutual.”

Clarke thought she heard Lexa answer “ _you keep telling yourself that”_ in a really low voice, but maybe it was just her subconscious imagining things. She shook her head to get rid of the confusion taking over her and whipped on her heels, leaving the office.

“Clarke.” Lexa called after her, not even raising her voice.

Clarke felt compelled to froze, guided by that voice that was made to give orders.

“If you want to interact with talkative people, I suggest you have a conversation with Jasper Jordan. He might help you.” continued Lexa after a moment.

Clarke turned her head to the other woman and nodded with gratitude.

“Thank you.” she breathed out before disappearing into the corridor.

 

\---

 

Clarke decided to follow Lexa's advice, in order to test her good faith. Maybe the uptight CEO wasn't creating obstacles after all, maybe it was just her overachieving and closed-up nature that seemed hostile in the first place. Clarke would soon find out.

Jasper was a young man, tall and lean, with big, thin limbs that he didn't seem to know what to do with. As a result, he was awkwardly shifting onto the couch every ten seconds or so, looking curious and excited as a child, despite his obvious grief.

_Consultation: Jasper Jordan_

“Hello, Jasper.” she began in a warm voice. “I'm Clarke, and I'd like to ask you a few questions. How are you?”

“I'm good, I guess.” he answered, scratching the back of his neck. “The last couple of days have been horrible, but... Yeah, I'm starting to realize. He's gone.”

_Subject looks really sad. Grief seems genuine_

“We'll get back on that later.” promised Clarke. “Could you tell me how you feel everyday when you come to work? Are you under a lot of pressure, do you feel any particular stress related to the atmosphere of this company?”

Jasper let out a humorless laugh.

“Well, I'm used to it now. I've been working here a couple years, so, the initial fright wears off. I mean, don't get me wrong, I still fear Cerberus. Everyone does. They scare the crap out of us. But I guess every job is stressful. You need to work hard not to get fired, right?”

“Right.” nodded Clarke, a bit lost by the quick pace of Jasper's talking. The young man was firing sentences like bullets, not even pausing to breathe. “You mentioned... Cerberus? What is that?”

Jasper raised his eyebrow, gesturing into the air with his hands.

“Cerberus, the giant three-headed hound guarding the gates of hell. You know, the big dog?”

“I'm familiar with Greek mythology, yes.” breathed out Clarke. “What does Cerberus have to do with the _ArkCity Daily_?”

Jasper let out an actual grin, one that wasn't bearing the heavy burden of loss.

“Sorry, I forgot you're new. It's what everyone calls them here: the three heads of the company. You've got our beloved bitchy CEO, Anya and Indra. The three of them are terrifying. You don't want to mess with either of them. Thus, Cerberus.”

_Lexa, Anya and Indra, an unhealthy amount of stress upon the employees?_

“Thanks for enlightening me. Well, I'm sorry to have to ask you, but did it occur to you that Finn had any enemies here? Somebody who might have wanted to harm him in any way?”

Jasper immediately shook his head, furrowing his brow.

“No, no, of course not.” His voice cracked. “I mean... Everyone liked him. He was... he was the best.”

As the young man let out a quiet sob, Clarke gave him a few moments to regain composure.

_Subject doesn't know anything about potential murder._

“Sorry.” said Jasper, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “It's just so fresh, you know? And so unfair, sometimes it doesn't feel real. I still expect him to burst into my office to show me the last caricature he drew of Anya sometimes, but then I remember. It's hard to let go.”

Clarke nodded, handing him a handkerchief.

“Coping with loss is a tough thing. He was your friend. You don't have to be sorry for mourning, it's okay.”

“I'll be okay, though.” replied Jasper. “I just need some time. But, I just think, poor Raven. I wonder how she manages not to look like she's about to collapse.”

Clarke frowned slightly.

“Raven? Are you talking about Raven Reyes?”

“Yeah, Finn's girlfriend.” answered Jasper casually, dropping a bomb into Clarke's investigation just like that.

 _Why the fuck didn't anybody tell me that Finn Collins was in a relationship?_ she thought. This was a game-changer. A huge one. Raven Reyes just became the one person who was her best shot at discovering the truth.

“Thank you for your time, Jasper, I appreciate it. We will talk again. In the meantime, feel free to come to me anytime you need.” said Clarke, giving him a warm and reassuring smile.

 

As he exited the room, she dialed Marcus Kane's number immediately.

“ _Well, Clarke, I thought you'd never call. Did you find out anything?”_

“Not about a potential murderer.” admitted Clarke. “But I was delayed. The CEO seemed pretty keen on not letting me investigating.”

“ _Don't trust her then.”_

“I don't trust anyone in there. But I just found out something that changes everything.”

“ _What is it?”_

“Finn Collins had a girlfriend. And guess what? She's on the suspect list.”

On the other end of the line, Kane whistled appreciatively.

“ _Well done. That's going to help us figure out more about Finn.”_

“I still have a couple hours of work this afternoon. I'll talk to her right now.”

“ _No, Clarke, wait. You won't have another shot, if you scare her away or if she closes up on herself. Come at the police station right now. We need to prepare exactly the questions we want to ask her.”_

“Fair enough.” replied Clarke after a moment's reflexion. “I'll be right there.”

She hung up and grabbed her coat, storming out of her office toward the building entrance.

As she did, she almost ran into Lexa, who was carrying a pile of files into her arms.

“Leaving early, Clarke?” asked the young woman, staring at her with her cold, green eyes.

“Yes, I have... Stuff to do...”

Clarke found it difficult to focus when Lexa was looking at her with that much intensity. Mouth slightly dry, she gestured toward the exit.

“I'm going to go now.” she said. “Goodbye, Lexa.”

She hesitated for a moment before clearing her throat again.

“And thanks for your tip. Jasper Jordan was very interesting to talk to.”

“You're welcome.” nodded Lexa, reajusting her files on her arms, flexing her biceps as she did. Clarke's gaze slipped over her tattoo onto her toned arm, before shooting back up to her face. “I hope that you have change your mind about this custody threat of yours.” added Lexa with a hint of sarcasm.

“Just forget it”, blushed Clarke. “I guess... I was overreacting a bit. I'm sorry if I was rude.”

And, seriously, what was she doing there? She didn't have to apologize to Lexa, this was frankly ridiculous. Clarke really needed to stop acting like a goddamned lovestruck teenager around her.

“Did you really mean what you said?” asked Lexa, tilting her head on the side. Her eyes were burning with a light that Clarke couldn't fathom, and it left her a bit breathless.

“About what?”

“That you don't like talking to me.”

Clarke opened her mouth and closed it clumsily, while Lexa clearly enjoyed how uncomfortable she was making her.

“I didn't mean it. I like you.” Realizing her mistake, Clarke widened her eyes and quickly corrected herself. “I like talking with you. God. I'm going... I'm leaving. Bye, Lexa.”

As she almost ran away, her cheeks burning up with embarrassment, Clarke could feel Lexa's eyes burning a hole into the back of her skull.

She needed to get that crush under control right now.

For heaven's sake, Clarke had a potential murder to investigate in only two weeks and now was _so_ not the time to get attracted to anyone. Especially when that person happened to be on the suspect list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry about the awfully long wait. But don't worry, I really intend to finish this story. Thanks for all your support :)!


End file.
